Dead to Rights by Jack Patterson (fiction book recommendations .txt) 📕

do that if I were you,” Taylor said, shaking his index finger in Cal’s face.

Cal drew back. “Excuse me, but I need to get going.”

“Not if you think going to Camp Manmaker is a good idea.”

Cal turned sideways to shimmy past Taylor.

“I don’t really have time for this,” Cal said as he grabbed Kelly’s hand and headed for the door.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Taylor called out after them.

It was the last thing Cal heard before the glass door to Curly’s Diner banged shut and silenced Taylor’s words on the sidewalk outside.

Cal looked over his shoulder and back into the restaurant.

“Don’t go there,” Taylor mouthed as he waved his hands. “Don’t do it.”

“Think we should listen to him?” Kelly asked. “He seems kind of adamant about us not going.”

“We’ve got to get back to Seattle before Buckman cancels the company credit card on us for running up the expense account. Plus, I’ve got to write this monstrous story sooner rather than later. All this research isn’t going to amount to much if this story takes off.”

“I hope you’re right, Cal,” she said. “But I’ve got a feeling we should trust Crazy Corey Taylor for once.”

CHAPTER 37

CAL LOOKED UP CAMP MANMAKER on his phone and found a map to the location. In a matter of minutes, he and Kelly had exited the city limits of Pickett and were hurtling down a two-lane blacktop that skirted the Okefenokee. The sun had started to dip on the horizon, and Cal estimated they had a half hour of daylight remaining.

Five minutes later, they reached the turnoff point for the camp, the sign nearly covered up by a cluster of kudzu. Cal wheeled his car onto the dirt driveway as per the directions on his phone and continued along. Spanish moss hung from the bald-cypress nestled into the swampy areas on both sides of the road. Black gum trees dominated the drier landscape, and the frogs provided an unrelenting chorus. Cal rolled his window down to take in the swamp air, which smelled musky and pungent.

“Put that window up,” Kelly said, playfully gagging.

“What? You don’t like the fresh smell of a pole cat?” Cal asked.

“I told you we should’ve listened to Crazy Corey Taylor.”

Cal smiled as the car bumped along the road. He was enjoying the comedic moment in what had been an otherwise serious and grueling week of interviews and research in a town that held his intentions suspect. He wasn’t sure what he was going to find at Camp Manmaker, but he wanted to see it for himself and get Kelly to snap a few photos in the evening light for the story. If anything, an aside about the camp promised to provide interesting insight into the man behind the badge.

Cal finally reached a row of cabins and what looked like a main meeting hall. He parked the car and got out. Kelly lagged a minute behind as she gathered her camera gear.

“I didn’t picture a place like this,” Cal said. “Did you?”

Kelly lugged her bag toward Cal and shook her head.

“I figured it would’ve been somewhat run down, but this place is kind of nice.”

“Maybe that’s how this camp works. They work hard and part of what they do is keep it up.”

Cal walked around the grounds, inspecting the buildings a little closer. He cupped his hands around his face and peered into the windows.

“I can’t really see much inside,” Cal said.

“Did you try the door to see if it’s open?” Kelly asked while she snapped several pictures.

Cal jogged over to the door to one of the cabins and jiggled the handle. It was locked.

“Nothing,” he said.

Cal joined Kelly as she started to walk deeper into the grounds and then Cal froze.

“Look over there,” Cal said in a strained whisper. “Sloan’s truck. If he catches us, he’s liable to throw us in a cell right next to Drake.”

Kelly shot him a look. “I told you we should’ve listened to Crazy Corey Taylor.”

“Fine. You’re right. We shouldn’t have come.”

Daylight had given way to dusk, making it easier to see a light in one of the cabins about three hundred meters away through the trees.

“What do you think is over there?” Kelly asked.

“Seriously? A cabin in the middle of nowhere near a backwoods town? And you want to go there?” Cal asked.

“Aren’t you the least bit curious?”

“Of course I am, but I’m not interested in getting into trouble here tonight,” Cal said, “especially after we’ve been able to avoid it for about a week.”

Fireflies started to flicker as they ascended toward the top of the slash pines scattered around the grounds. The chorus of the frogs bellowing seemed to grow louder.

“Since when did you lose your nerve to go the extra mile on a story like this?” Kelly asked.

Cal sighed. “Did I ever tell you that you’re a bad influence on me?”

He spun toward the cabin with Kelly walking by his side. Her wide grin took the place of any words she could’ve offered up at the time. And Cal reveled in it, reminding himself how lucky he was to have a woman as committed to good journalism as he was—maybe even more so. She was also just as curious as he was, story or not.

Cal and Kelly stayed low to the ground as they approached the sole lit cabin. As they got closer, Cal realized it wasn’t like the other cabins. It was set farther back and appeared to be built more recently. Instead of a tin roof, it had a shingled one. And the façade wasn’t wood but brick.

Once they reached the structure, Cal put his finger to his lips and then motioned for Kelly to follow him to the back. With a set of steps on both sides of the building that led up to the door, the windows sat high off the ground but not so high that Cal and Kelly couldn’t see inside.

When Cal got close enough and peered into the window,